


Blood Of The Wolf

by Bam4Me



Series: Fur And Scales, Move Into Ever [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Catelyn knows about Jon so she accepts him as her son, Direwolf Jon, First of a series, Follows Jons birth to getting to the Free Folk camp, Future Dany/Irri, Future Free Folk all survive series, Future Jon/Ghost, Future Jon/Tormund, Future Jorah/Drogo, Future Sansa/Ygritte, Future Tyrion/Bronn, Gen, I'm legit serious this isnt crack plz take it seriously, Jon is pretty much a perpetual state of Panic Attack, Jon knows hes a Targaryen, Please head all warnings Im serious right now, Shapeshifting, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 15:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bam4Me/pseuds/Bam4Me
Summary: They said the Blood of the Dragon turned the Targaryens into dragons themselves, but what can the Blood of the Wolf do?





	Blood Of The Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, idea: Targaryens call themselves the blood of the dragon, so like, what if all Targaryens could TURN INTO a dragon?????? But in this case, Jon was born to a Targaryen and a Stark, and we all know which genes turned out dominant, so like, what if he ended up a direwolf instead of a dragon???? Good. You get the idea.
> 
> I will be eventually be doing a fic about Dany and Jorah, plus a slightly shorter one about Tyrion and Bronn, but the overall main storyline is following Jon. This is AU tho. Mostly. It's following the GENERAL plotline, but it's AU. Dany and Tyrion's storys also follow general plotline but with AU happenings.
> 
> Anyways, surprise shifters are going to be in a list at the bottom of the fic, only click if you want the spoilers for that.
> 
> Yes though, you read that right, Jon/Ghost is going to be a thing. I'm not joking, it's not crack, if you don't like it, just leave. I don't care if you like it or not, just go away.
> 
> Littlesforfandom.tumblr.com

The blood of the dragon was a powerful thing. They said that a Targaryen could transform into a dragon at will if they wished it, burn entire cities to the ground and take what they wished.

 

It’s how the North ended up being held by the Targaryen’s in the first place. The southerners now days all thought it was complete hogwash, that they had conquered the North just by being the strong kind they were. The North knew better than that.

 

The White Walkers slept in the ice, and the Targaryen’s are dragons.

 

Well, they  _ were _ . They were dead now. Rhaegar had been the last to go, and he hadn’t been able to put up much of a fight, though from what Ned heard, the Mad King hadn’t been able to transform at all in the end. They say madness took over his mind and made him weak. Ned had believed that.

 

What he hadn’t believed, was that Lyanna and Rhaegar’s child could be anything but a human babe in his arms as he made his way back to Winterfell after the Robert had been crowned king.

 

It wasn’t until the wet nurse -the one Lyanna had picked out herself- had started screaming one night as they made camp just inside the lands of the Neck, that Ned believed it.

 

For a moment, he’d almost thought someone had taken the babe -Jon- and left a wolf in his place, but there was no mistaking it when Jon had finally changed back to human, just a mere hour later.

 

That was when Ned knew he’d never be able to keep it a secret from Catelyn and whatever children they had.

 

Howland sat next to him around the fire as Ned stared into the flames, mind numb. He did that a lot now, and none of them blamed him. He’s lost almost his entire family, and gained an inhuman son in the process.

 

“He… he might be safer in the Neck. You know Robert would never come here, he thinks the swamps are below him, he would never look here.”

 

Ned looked over at Howland with a little shake of his head. “He is my sister’s son, and I will do everything in my power to keep him safe, but he deserves to go home to Winterfell.”

 

Howland nodded, and that was that.

 

***

 

Robb seemed to take to the boy faster than anyone, the two of them closer in age, and what baby, even a three month old baby, wouldn’t want a puppy to play with.

 

Ned’s only worry, is that the infant seems to be spending more time as an animal, than as a baby.

 

That was okay at first, until Jon was about two years old, and starting to be able to control it.

 

Him controlling it wasn’t the issue, now the issue was teaching him not to show anyone other than their family, and not to do it whenever he pleased.

 

By four, Ned was wondering if there would be no controlling him at all. The Targaryen’s had never had a reason to control their children’s changes from human to dragon, it was a source of pride for them as a whole, but they needed to keep Jon hidden for his own good.

 

Ned really didn’t want Jon to have to hide for his whole life just because of something he couldn’t control.

 

The boys were only four years old now, nearly five, and they were having a feast in the main hall. Catelyn had already gotten Sansa ready and was waiting with Arya and her at the door while Ned tried to coax Jon out from under his bed. Robb and Sansa seemed to think this was a game.

 

“Jon, you can’t hide under here all night. Your septa will be at the feast, so you should be coming too.”

 

Jon wasn’t able to reply in this form, so instead he gave an angry little growl from his place under the bed, stomping his front right paw on the ground as if to make a point. Ned tried not to smile at him, needing to be firm or the boy would walk all over him -even more than he usually does, for Jon seemed to have Ned wrapped firmly around his fingers, or paws, as it was- and instead, he gave the wolf pup a disappointed frown. “Jon, get out from under there now.”

 

Jon whined once at the firm tone, and cautiously started wriggling out from under the bed, making Catelyn sigh in relief. She’d had no luck coaxing him out, which is odd since he normally clung to her worse than Sansa did when he was upset about something.

 

Ned wasted no time scooping the puppy up and putting him on the bed. “Jon, turn back. There are people here who want to see you.”

 

Jon whined again, looking over at Catelyn as if to ask for help, but she didn’t bat an eyelash, a little bit annoyed with him for being so difficult tonight. She loved that boy as much as she loved her other babies, but he could be a right terror when he’s got a mind for it. It was just easier to deal with him when he didn’t  _ need _ to be a human right now.

 

Ned was right though, there were people out there waiting to see Ned’s ‘bastard son’, and they really did need to keep up appearances if they wanted to convince the world he was a human.

 

“Don’t look at Mama for help, you know you need to change back now.”

 

Jon shuffled his paws a little on the bedspread, before he finally gave in, fur retracting inside and body shifting to that of a human boy of four years old. He wasn’t wearing any clothes, though he was rather used to being naked in front of others so he didn’t try to cover up, though he did shiver once before Ned moved to pull a wool blanket around his little shoulders. It was thick, and he had more of them than anyone else in the castle, but Ned couldn’t bring himself to make the boy use wolfskin furs, so there weren’t too many furs Jon had in his room.

 

Jon pulled the blanket tighter around himself, and looked up at Ned nervously. “Why do I need to go? I’m not your son.”

 

“You are my son. You call me father and the North thinks you’re my child. You need to go.”

 

Jon’s cheeks were puffed out, and Ned had to keep himself from grinning too wide at that. Jon had a way of making you feel like you were abusing him, when you were just trying to get him dressed, and it was both heartbreaking and amusing in turns. It also reminded Ned of Benjen when he was still little.

 

Sometimes Ned thinks Jon has a little bit of all of them in him. Speaking of.

 

“Uncle Benjen and Uncle Howland are here for the next few weeks, and I know that both of them are excited to see you. All of you.”

 

Jon perked up for the first time since they got in the room, and Ned could see the nervousness over being in a crowded room -which always sent him into an upset flurry when he had to be in them- was slowly bleeding away, replaced by eagerness. “Robb, Uncle Benjen and Howland came?”

 

Robb nodded, holding onto the side of the bed while he watched his younger brother. The two of them were closer than anything, being so close in age, despite their differences physically. “Yeah. They said they had presents for us, too!”

 

Jon let Ned help him down from the bed to the cold floor, the little boy abandoning the blanket in favor of excited bouncing. Catelyn rolled her eyes at him, but it looked entirely fond, and she gently passed Arya over to Ned’s arms so she could go back to wrestling Jon into actual clothes for the night.

 

***

 

Jon was seven years old when he started questioning why he could change and no one else in the family could. He also questioned why he wasn’t allowed to show anyone else his shifted form.

 

It had been a hard conversation to get through, not because Jon couldn’t accept his reality, but because Ned still couldn’t speak of his sister without the pain of it coming through.

 

Jon accepted that he was a part of their family, and he was different, and he moved on from there, because he couldn’t stand the pain in his father’s eyes any more than Ned could take talking of her.

 

***

 

Maester Luwin knocked on Ned’s office door on a morning of one cold day. The other Stark children were all in their studies inside the castle walls today, for outside of them was cold and damp, too deep for children’s skin.

 

Jon sort of wanted to argue that his fur would keep him warm that day and he could go outside, but Ned had protested the idea of Jon leaving the castle alone in that form. He was too small and could be hurt too easily. Ned was adamant that Jon never change outside without family there with him to keep him safe.

 

So instead, Jon was lounging by the fireplace in that same preferred form, sulking that he’s not allowed to roam the grounds free like he wanted to. He could often be found stropping in this form when upset, and Jon was very upset at not being allowed outside today. He let out a rumbling little yip when Ned told the Maester to come in, glaring at him standing amused in the doorway. Ned and the Maester assumed it was some sort of attempt at a growl, but Jon’s body wasn’t exactly developed enough for that sort of proper noise, which came as no little fact of discontent to him.

 

He just didn’t grow in this form the way his body grew into his human form. It was a slow development. He was a ten year old boy, and yet, as a pup, his body was far behind what it should have been.

 

“I had the feeling he would be with you when he didn’t show up to his lessons.”

 

Ned nodded, sitting back in his chair with a smile that he didn’t actually want to give. It’s not that he was upset, but he knew it only reinforced bad behavior to smile when Jon was sulking like this. Sometimes he wondered if the little wolf could even help himself though. “Yes. He’s been keeping me company this morning.”

 

“How sweet of him.”

 

Before Maester Luwin left, he gave Jon a treat from the kitchens and a pat on the head. The Maester couldn’t claim he wasn’t to blame for spoiling the pup either. Jon had to know he had half the staff in the castle wrapped around his needs in either one form or another, whether or not they knew it themselves.

 

Jon stood up awhile later, little body stretching out the kinks of curling up for so long, before he headed off to come stand at Ned’s side at his desk. He leaned up to put both front paws on the edge of Ned’s chair, as far as he could reach upwards, and licked Ned’s hand once to get his attention away from his reading.

 

“May I help you?”

 

Jon bounced a little on his hind legs, and Ned recognized the move from when the pup was trying to get himself up to a higher space, but too little to really do it himself. He turned in the chair and patted one of his legs. “Come on, you can do it, come on up.”

 

Jon let out one of those little rumbling yips, trying to jump, but not really managing much. Ned had to hold himself from laughing at the pup. Really, he was supposed to be a big bad direwolf, but Ned is sure Jon would always be his little cub. Jon whined, distressed. “Alright, apparently not, but it’s okay, we can try again later.”

 

He reached up and picked up the little bundle of soft fur from the floor, depositing the wolf in his lap where Jon had obviously been wanting to be this whole time.

 

The pup let out a happy little sigh, settling down there where he was comfortable. It took less than five minutes for him to start squirming again, too much energy for his little body to handle. Ned smiled and reached down to hand him a deer leg bone he liked to gnaw on when it pleased him.

 

Robb came in later with Theon passing by him in the background. Theon didn’t know about Jon being a shifter, but when asked, he said that sailors told tales of men and women who could turn into fish with their magic and live in the sea. It’s why some people in the world refused to eat meat. They said it could have been a person.

 

Robb closed the door without Theon coming in after him, and stalked over to the desk to peer down at Jon in their father’s lap. “You’re so lazy, Jon. Why didn’t you come to practice? You can’t expect to ever get better at sword fighting if you don’t practice.”

 

Jon stood up in Ned’s lap, letting out a rumbling growl at his brother, making Ned sigh. “You know, Targaryens rarely  _ need _ to learn to sword fight. They do, of course, but they all chose to fight as dragons when it came to battle.”

 

Robb gave him a look like he thought Ned might be a little slow in the head. “He’s a puppy. He once tried to bite me and it didn’t even hurt. He’s barely big enough to climb onto his bed without help.”

 

Ned sighed again, holding the pup closer as Jon whined at him. “He’ll get bigger. He’s a direwolf, he’ll get much bigger. And if not, he’s already better with a sword than you are.”

 

It was true. Jon was better than most children with a sword, and even quite a few teens much bigger than both of them. Ned knew he’d be good. His mother and father had both been two of the best there was. It was just in his genes.

 

Jon just wasn’t programmed the same way as a human, it might not be in his nature to fight as one.

 

Which was a terrifying thought, because it had been the reason that Rhaegar had been defeated in the end.

 

***

 

When Jon was fourteen, he got caught shifting for the first time ever. He’s pretty sure his heart stopped in that moment and it was the most terrified he’d ever been. Her name was Taea

 

She had called him pretty, and said she’d never imagined she’d find that magic in the North. She had sat with Jon while he was on the ground, covered in leaves and grass, naked and crying, and she’d helped him back into his clothes even as he looked at her with mistrustful eyes, and told him she wouldn’t hurt him.

 

He still wondered why he didn’t tell Ned about her. He still wondered why he’d eventually come to trust her.

 

He thinks, that he’d possibly have fallen in love with her, if she hadn’t seen him as a coddled little pet to love. He thinks that after seeing him as a pup, and then again as a crying teenage boy who was scared of her, she wasn’t able to really think of him as human,  _ or _ adult. He wishes, just the littlest bit, that maybe she could have seen him as an equal, but he’s not sure she does.

 

That is, until he found her kissing a fisherman’s daughter one day, and then he just wonders if maybe she didn’t like him because she didn’t like boys like that.

 

He sort of hoped he could be friends with them still, because he’s never had anyone else know about his secrets before.

 

He cried a little the day they both left for the East to where the fisherman’s daughter had a ship captained by her cousin waiting for them. He didn’t try to stop them, knowing that it was better for orphans -like Taea had been- to find honest work and home lest they risk ending up in the whore house. But he still cried a little.

 

He gave them both daggers to protect them on the road from here to there.

 

***

 

It was just under a year later when Jon Arryn died. When they got word from the Capitol that the king and his family were coming to Winterfell. That most likely, Ned would be asked by the king to be his new Hand.

 

That was when his world started crashing down around him. 

 

He knew how this went, he couldn’t be seen by the king lest he recognize him as Lyanna’s son, he couldn’t draw attention to himself if he didn’t want the king questioning who his mother was. He couldn’t be in sight, unless he wanted to get hurt.

 

He’d been doing pretty well of staying out of sight till one night as he paced in the noble quarters with Ghost running at his heels, and was seen.

 

Robert was, for all Jon could tell, a drunk, a letch, a manwhore… and if he found out who Jon was, a threat.

 

Robert was also, unfortunately, just smart enough to piece things together, though according to Ned, not much smarter than that. Jon came to a stop when Robert turned a corner and looked down with a huff when Ghost ran into the backs of his ankles, reaching down to nudge the direwolf pup away from chewing on his boots. Already, Ghost was almost bigger than Jon was as a pup, though Jon has grown over the years.

 

He stood back up with the puppy in his arms, trying to act like he wasn’t terrified at the king walking towards him. It almost worked too, Robert fully set on walking right past him, till he caught sight of the bastard of Winterfell.

 

He slowed down to a stop next to him, looking at Jon for a good ten seconds, before looking at the wriggling pup. Jon looked downwards, quiet.

 

“You’re Ned’s boy then, huh? Why haven’t I met you before?”

 

Jon wracked his brain for something to say to that before remembering what Ned and Cat had told him to say if he was in trouble. “Lady Stark doesn’t want me in sight while Your Majesty is visiting, she wasn’t sure if it would cause offense or not.”

 

It was far from the truth. After telling him to say that, Catelyn had spent what seemed like days trying to convince Jon that she loved him just as much as she loved their other children. Jon had always loved the attention from their parents, but he rather thought he didn’t need all these reassurances. Right?

 

Robert snorted. “Of course, the Lady Stark would protest that. I don’t think my wife would let a bastard live in the castle, much less with the family. You’re lucky here boy, you know that?”

 

Jon risked looking him in the eyes, not so much afraid of him, as afraid of Robert really  _ seeing _ him. Ned so often told him he looked so much like his mother it hurt to see. “I know that. My lord father is a good man.”

 

Robert stared at him just long enough for panic to start to set in, but he relaxed a little when Robert nodded finally. “You don’t have to look so damn scared, boy. Though, I guess the Stark genes really do run thick. You look more like them than your siblings do.”

 

Jon really didn’t want to agree with that one, because he knew it was a suspicious thing. Some of the other Northern Men whispered that Ned Stark’s bastard looked more like his sister than he looked like him. He nodded once, holding Ghost closer when he started squirming against him.

 

“You’ve all got those pups too, where did you get them?”

 

Jon looked down at Ghost, figuring that was a safer topic than talking about himself. “We found their mother dead, speared by a stag in the woods. Father said… he said he couldn’t kill them.”

 

Jon had known that look on his face as Ned had looked at the direwolf pups, the ones that were orphaned, the look on his face saying he thought they would be better off dead now than later, and then he had looked at Jon for just long enough that even Theon took notice.

 

Theon had offered to put them out of their misery, and nearly all of them had spoke at once, yelling at him not to, before Ned had told him to stow his blade.

 

Jon had held two little furry bundles on the ride home -Ghost and Nymeria- and he felt sick at that moment, but also calm, as if he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it if Ned had decided to kill them. He’s not sure his  _ father _ could have handled seeing them dead.

 

Robert frowned, watching the pup closely. “That does sound like him. He let you all take care of them, then?”

 

Jon nodded. “There were six pups, six children. Ghost was the one that didn’t look like the others.”

 

Robert snorted now, looking amused. “Well, isn’t that bloody cute. Alright boy, I’ll let you go now. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than chat with an old man like me. Even if you do seem awfully familiar…”

 

Jon felt his blood run cold, even as he nodded and started walking away, no longer waiting for Robb to come out and go to the forest with him, he just left.

 

Normally, Jon wasn’t allowed to transform outside of the castle without someone there to guard him. Ned was worried that he was too small to keep himself out of trouble. He wished he would grow faster, though he was finally glad he was growing at all, but he couldn’t wait for Ghost to be big enough to guard him from humans so he wouldn’t have to wait for people.

 

He entered the Godswood just as the panic was setting in and let Ghost down to the ground again, shaking hands already moving to his clothes ties and straps so he could try to pull them off. He was just past the weirwood when he gave up for a moment with a desperate sigh, counting in his head before he reached up to try and remove his tunic and and britches again. He succeeded this time, and after kicking out of his boots, found himself naked in front of the opening of the forest. He transformed then, feeling too on edge to keep a human form.

 

“Well now, what’s this?”

 

Jon thought, for just a second, that it wasn’t possible to feel your blood run this cold if it had never truly gone warm from the first few scares, but he felt it, and he felt true and complete terror go through his body right now.

 

He transformed back, and he had to sit there and just breathe through the shortness of breath. He’d never transformed so quick before, and his whole body was shaking and sore as he panted in the dead leaves and twigs on the ground, body shaking, and he let out a little sob as his mind caught up with him, tears already spilling over.

 

He almost cried out for his mother and father to come to him, as if he’d scraped his knee and needed it kissed, instead of exposed his deepest secret and was in fear for his life itself.

 

The voice came again, but this time it was gentle, and Jon realized that he was talking through the tears, begging for his life, for his secret to be safe, for them not to tell the king.

 

He didn’t even know who’d found him, but he looked up when he felt something settle over his back, and he realized he was still kneeling in the dirt. Ghost was growling angrily next to him, but seemed more protective over Jon than ready to attack the stranger.

 

He reached up, slowly sitting up in the dirt, and found that a white cloak was set around his shoulders. He looked up at the man, but it took nearly a minute for his eyes to focus through the tears that were working down his cheeks, leaving his face cold where they passed over skin.

 

He was older, a little older than Ned was, with black hair and a frown. Jon recognized him. “You’re the bard who came with the king’s men.”

 

He nodded, kneeling down to help Jon get up from the ground, gently nudging Ghost out of the way when the wolf tried to get between him and Jon. It was cute, but the pup was far too little to be protecting him while still that small. He rather thought the pup would make a good guard for him later if Jon was still that small in the future.

 

“My name is Abel. You’re one of the son’s of Lord Stark, aren’t you?”

 

Jon nodded, feeling numb as Abel led him over to the weirwood so he could sit down, numbly pulling the cloak closer around him as Abel started gathering up his scattered clothes that Jon had carelessly tossed, before carelessly shifting. “You don’t look surprised.”

 

Abel came back with Jon’s clothes, gently, but firmly, starting to help him pull them back on. “Bards are well traveled men, you could say. Not much surprises me. But I do know that if anyone finds me out in the godswood with a crying, naked noble boy, it’ll be my head on a chopping block before I can protest it.”

 

Jon nodded, a few more tears slipping out though he tried to stop them, sluggishly helping Abel get him dressed again, though it was more him dressing Jon than anything. He felt like a little kid. He reached down to pull Ghost up into his lap, curling up with the warm direwolf in his arms, cooing at him a little to try and get the pup to stop growling. If he went back to the castle with Ghost on edge, everyone would know something happened.

 

“You won’t tell the king?”

 

Abel sat next to the teen, and put a hand on Jons back. “I wouldn’t tell that man the time of day if he asked.”

 

Jon snorted, trying not to laugh at that, but he couldn’t really hold it back, cracking his first smile in what felt like hours. “Not his biggest fan, are you?”

 

“Gods no. You know, I hear a lot of tell of shifters in Westeros in the North. You should head up towards the Wall if you want to be around those like you.”

 

Jon gave him a long look, eyebrows pulled together. “The only shifters in Westeros I know of are all in the oceans. Fish shifters. Whales and dolphins and sharks. I’m a wolf, I have no place in the water.”

 

Abel shook his head. “You’re not looking hard enough. They’re there, in the North, you only need to keep looking.”

 

Jon watched him closely for a minute, before nodding. He reluctantly took the cloak off his shoulders, giving it to the man who stood up from the log they’d been sitting on. “I won’t see you again, will I?”

 

Abel shrugged. “Well, I was going to leave Winterfell tonight, only came here to see the godswood before I was off. I think I found something so much more interesting, to be honest. Our paths may yet cross again.”

 

Jon wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he didn’t, watching the man leave the godswood without making a fuss about Jon’s secret at all. Jon looked back down to the wriggling pup in his arms, and felt himself honestly calm down for the first time in hours. 

 

He felt like he could breathe again.

 

***

 

Uncle Benjen had told him right away that it would be foolish to try to hide it. Ghost is growing almost rapidly now, nearly the size of a full grown wolf, but still so much smaller than a direwolf, and it’s like Jon can feel his body aching as it tried to catch up to him.

 

It was probably the only reason Jon had convinced Ned to let him go at all. He was finally growing up enough that he could take care of himself. Otherwise, Ned probably would have demanded Jon stay home with his brothers and mom. Jon felt bad about leaving Bran right now, but he needed to leave. He needed to figure out what Abel meant.

 

He also felt a little suffocated in Winterfell. He felt terrible about that. He knew that Ned didn’t mean to always treat him like this, but Ned didn’t seem capable of treating him like the adult he was slowly becoming. Ned said that it would suit them all just fine if Jon never grew up at all, stayed a pup instead of a wolf, and it was starting to get to him a little.

 

_ I just want to be an adult, too. _

 

He tried to keep it under wraps, but there was one single aspect of his shifting abilities that Jon had yet to be able to control still. He still shifted while sleeping most nights.

 

It was the second day by the time that both Yoren and Tyrion Lannister knew what he was.

 

Jon was honestly embarrassed to say, Tyrion knew how to scratch that one spot behind his ears that was really hard to get to, and that was pretty nice. Tyrion seemed to be almost constantly on the verge of asking questions, and while Jon wasn’t exactly used to them, he wanted to tell the man he could ask what he was thinking.

 

Jon found him to be a strange man, almost fascinated and scared of him in both parts. Jon wondered about that.

 

Yoren seemed to know something that Jon didn’t, because he seemed convinced that Jon would fit in better at the Wall than anywhere else.

 

It made him honestly wonder why he thought that. As far as he knew, there were a few Targaryen’s left -Jon’s aunt and uncle, as far as he knew, his father’s younger brother and sister- but he wasn’t heading in their direction, he was going somewhere else. He wasn’t fully sure he could completely fit in in a place without family. Even just leaving Winterfell was painful.

 

He wasn’t fully sure he was heading in the right direction if he went the other way, but he couldn’t hold back.

 

Things changed a little once they got to the Wall. For one thing, Benjen sees to think that Jon’s suddenly gained the ability to use his human adults words to actually say what he’s thinking, as if Jon isn’t entirely emotionally and verbally stunted from years of getting his point across by simply growling and barking at people.

 

Which is why, after being assigned quarters and fed, and warned that his  _ beast _ better not attack anyone or they’ll have to put it down -by the rudest man Jon thinks he’s ever met probably, Thorne- Benjen had sent him to the Lord Commander’s quarters with a little shove, telling Jon under no uncertain terms that he was to explain what and who he was to Jeor Mormont.

 

Which is why Jon was standing in the doorway of the man’s personal quarters with eyes wide as a deer’s, looking as terrified as he felt. And he felt a little bit like throwing up, he was so scared.

 

“Boy, don’t stand there like that, you’re freezing the room out.”

 

Jon looked between Jeor and the door for a second before thinking about leaving again, but the look on Jeor’s face stopped him, and he came in, closing the door behind him with a hand that was shaking.

 

“You uncle says you’ve something to say, don’t stand there shaking and waste my time, I’ve things to do.”

 

Jon tried -honestly, he did, but when he opened his mouth, it’s like nothing would come out- and finally, he decided to just out with it the only way he knew.

 

Jeor didn’t notice that Jon was stripping down at first, having been facing the other way while he read through reports, but when the silence went on for too long followed by the distinct sound of a belt being taken off, he turned in the chair with wide eyes.

 

For a moment, Jeor wanted to yell at him that this isn’t how they did things at the Wall -that Jon didn’t need to sleep with anyone to stay here- before he remembered Benjen’s words, and that he was the man to send him up here, and for another moment after that, he had a bloody fantasy in his mind of killing Benjen -and possibly Ned as well- for ever letting a boy think he needed to fuck to be fed and kept.

 

He wondered if this was how Ned treated bastards in Winterfell, and how fast he could get there to demand the man’s head for it.

 

“Snow, what in the world are you doing?”

 

Jon kicked off his boots and winced when his bare feet hit the cold wooden floor, nearly frozen, and pulled off the rest of his trousers after. He wasn’t nervous about being naked in front of others. That was sort of normal for him at this point. His siblings have long since stopped being startled at the idea of him wandering around with no clothes, other than Ned constantly yelling at him that he was going to make himself ill. 

 

“Uncle Benjen said he wanted me to show you something. I… I’m not sure how else to explain it…” He trailed off, and the red vision of Jeor’s anger faded somewhat. If the boy was trying to show him something, he might as well give him the chance.

 

“Then show me.”

 

Jon nodded once, and his eyes closed, and his body started to shift from human to other. Jeor stood up from his desk in shock, breathing heavy as he watched Jon change from teen to wolf, and he didn’t register the things he knocked off the desk as he rounded to kneel next to the nervous looking wolf.

 

Jon was pretty young for a direwolf, past a babe but nowhere near an adult. Even that direwolf he’d brought in with him, Ghost, even he was bigger than Jon was, and Benjen had said the direwolf was still growing and it would be awhile before he was big. 

 

He pulled off one thick leather glove, and reached out, giving the pup a chance to smell at him and decide if he was friend or foe, and when given permission, buried a big hand in Jon’s soft curly fur. It was soft, like baby hair, but thick to keep him warm.

 

“I’ll admit, of all the things you’d come here to show me, I wasn’t expecting that. I never expected to see a shifter that was a direwolf. Dragon? Sure. Even bears, but direwolves? I never knew the Stark’s had that ability. Benjen doesn’t have it.”

 

Jon leaned up to lick at the man’s hand once, before stepping out of his hold and starting to shift back.

 

It wasn’t the fastest shift he’s ever achieved, but it still left him a little dizzy on the floor, cold seeping into his muscles in a way he knew he’d regret later when it made them sore and angry, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up yet, shaking just a little at the heavy sensation in his limbs.

 

For the second time ever, Jon found himself being helped back into his clothes by someone other than his family, as Jeor gently manipulated his arms up and tugged his tunic over his head for him. “I remember back when Jorah was still that little. He was such a curious cub, climbing everything he could get his hands on. He was that young for years though, till he finally started growing after meeting the woman he was married to. You’ve got a ways to go before you start growing up, I think.”

 

Jon groaned once, trying to pull himself up off the floor, and finally accepting the man’s help, taking his clothes with him so he could sluggishly start working into them, resigning to the fact that he’d probably be feeling a bone deep cold for a while yet.

 

Jeor waited until he was dressed and pushed him over to the chair next to the fire before moving to get him a blanket. Jon wondered what had happened to ‘I have work to do’ but didn’t ask, a little thankful that he wasn’t being kicked out with this ache in his muscles right now. He still needs time to adapt to this level of cold without a layer of fur to keep him warm. He spent the majority of his winters back home in that form, so much easier to move when you’re already mostly warm.

 

But then, Jeor’s words caught up to him, and he looked up at him sharply, eyes big. “Your cub?”

 

Jeor nodded, leaning against the wall next to the fireplace as Jon tried to build up warmth by getting up to stand next to the fire. “Jorah. My son, and my cub. There’s a reason they say that Mormont women are skinchangers who find their husbands in the woods. Well, there’s a reason my niece says that, anyways.”

 

Jon stared at the man for a long minute, fear waring inside of him with longing and hope. Before he knew what was happening, there were tears slipping down his cheeks, and he couldn’t breath for a long moment, silent for all the complete emotional overload he was showing. 

 

Jeor looked almost pitying- no, not pitying, but sad. Sad in the same way that Ned got when a child was crying and he had no way of helping them, sad in the same way that Catelyn had been at Bran’s bedside when Jon had left, desperate and terrified for her child. Jeor looked like a parent who’s seen crying children before, and he was afraid they would never be happy again.

 

When he could finally pull the air in again, he found himself crouching down next to the fire, pulling in choking breaths as he stared into it, closing his arms around his legs as he tried to calm himself down from the ache. He was still so completely silent other than the ragged little breaths, and Jeor did pity him in that moment, because as a parent, he knew it was rare to see such a silent cry, and it never meant anything good.

 

When he looked up at Jeor, he was finally breathing right, though his eyes weren’t dry. “You’re a shifter?”

 

His words sounded croaking, and he ignored the pain in his throat. If he let himself give into that, he’d start sobbing, and he didn’t honestly know why, but he knew he might not stop.

 

Jeor nodded. “Yes. Almost all Mormont children are shifters. I’ve yet to meet one of my family that wasn’t. All my children and my sister’s children were.”

 

Jon nodded once, looking back into the flames. “How many children is that?”

 

Jeor paused for a long moment. “Jorah is the only child I had who was born a man and not a bear. His sisters all live in the woods where their mother was before them.”

 

Jon’s nose scrunched up, and he shook his head, fuzzy and trying to clear it. “His sisters? I thought you only had one son? I was wondering how many your sister had.”

 

Jeor seemed to sigh after a long breath. “It’s not often I can admit to this, but my daughters weren’t born to my wife. They were born to my mate I had in the forest. She was a natural born bear, and she bore me four daughters, three of which are grown with their own children now.”

 

Jon didn’t ask where Jorah was now, because he already knew. Ned had been looking for Jorah for treason for over a year now. Jon wiped at his cheeks and eyes to dry them, but a few tears were still coming, slowly now, and he heard Jeor sit at the desk behind him. “My younger sister Maege, has four human born daughters, and one bear born son. He lives in the forest with his cousins. All of them can change, but it’s different for bear born changers.”

 

“How so?”

 

“They don’t feel as natural becoming human as we do becoming animal. You and I, we see it as naturally as life itself, it’s right. But for them, it’s often confusing, not many of them choose to live that way.”

 

Jon nodded. He felt a little numb now that he was calming down. He shook his head again, feeling weak. He wasn’t sure his legs would let him stand if he tried right now. “Have you ever met any other changers?”

 

Jeor was silent for a long time, before letting out a curse that made Jon’s ears burn. “Benjen told you nothing, did he?”

 

Jon shook his head, not looking back at him, still staring into the flames. At this point, he was starting to feel too emotionally numb to be surprised. “No. He just told me to tell you.”

 

“Maester Aemon. There’s tell that there are a few wildlings that can, but I wouldn’t know. You should ask your uncle.”

 

Jon wondered for a second, why Jeor would refer to wildlings like that -with that underlying discomfort- if there was kin among them, but he didn’t know enough about it to argue. Then more words caught up to him. “Maester Aemon? There’s another brother who changes?”

 

Jeor nodded, standing up. “Come on, boy, I think the two of you need to meet.”

 

When Jon tried to get up, he was right, his legs wouldn’t hold him, and Jeor had to pull him to his feet once more. Jon could feel heat creeping up his neck at it, and he just hoped Jeor wouldn’t label him as hopeless for it. Jeor didn’t say a word about it, just pushing him out the door and around the balcony towards the library.

 

The library was warmer than outside, but Jon still shivered when he was pushed into a chair, mind buzzing and eyes glazing over as he listened to Jeor inform Maester Aemon about what he’d learned. It wasn’t until he heard Jeor trying to politely tell the blind man that he didn’t think Jon could change in this state of shock, nor should he change again so soon with how weak he was right now.

 

Jon shook his head, sitting up a little straighter. “I can change again, but… well, just don’t expect me to change back for the rest of the afternoon.”

 

Aemon nodded, a little smile on his face. “Aeg used to say that. That he was strong enough to change and fly, but not to expect him back anytime soon. I remember that youthful shift.”

 

Jon’s brain seemed to be rebooting. “...you’re Aemon Targaryen.”

 

Jeor looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. “Benjen really told you  _ nothing _ , did he?”

 

Jon’s nose turned into a disgruntled scrunch again, and his face shifted into a bitter scowl. “No, he didn’t tell me anything. He never told me there were bear shifters, he never told me that my great great uncle was a maester of the Night’s Watch, and he never told me there were wildling shifters, he didn’t tell me anything. Just assume I know nothing.”

 

Aemon was still smiling, but this was bitter. “Your great great uncle, lad?”

 

“You. My great great uncle. Your brother was my great grandfather. Aegon. I’m not a shifter because the Stark’s are shifters, I’m a shifter for the Targaryen blood my birth father bore me.”

 

The two of them were quiet for a moment, before Aemon sat up a little straighter. “Then you know what happened to them? To your father, your brother and sister even?”

 

Jon sighed. “Yes, I know how lucky I am that my father took claim of me after my birth as his bastard son. And I also know it wouldn’t be wise to tell many people who I am lest the  _ king _ decide he doesn’t like the lie my father gave him. My father is currently going to King’s Landing with them, and if Robert finds out about it, it could be his head on a pike.”

 

Aemon nodded. “I will tell no one. But I do wish to see your other side.”

 

Jon hummed as he nodded, the noise more for Aemon than Jeor as he looked between the two of them. “Can I see Ghost? I want Ghost, he… he makes things easier sometimes.”

 

Aemon stared sightlessly into Jeor’s eyes, as if his vision might return just to share a look with an old friend, and Jeor sighed. “I’ll go get him.”

 

When he was gone, Jon turned to watch the old man curiously. “Can I see your transformation too?”

 

Aemon’s smile was both sad and fond. “I sorely wish I could show you, sweet boy. I wish I could. I’ve long since grown too old to shift anymore. I think, my body has one more shift saved up in me, and I’d love to be able to use it later.”

 

Jon had to hold himself back from crying again. He felt so so close, and now it’s out of his reach. “What about Jeor? Do you think he would show me his?”

 

Aemon nodded. “I think he would love to show you the old bear. I would give anything to see him chase around a little one like you as if he has his cubs with him again. Something to finally tire a man like him out.”

 

When Jeor was back with Ghost, Jon smiled, standing up and starting to strip again. “If, uh, if I’m going to be shifted for the rest of the day, where will you tell people I got off to?”

 

Jeor shook his head, but Aemon answered. “We won’t tell them. If they ask where you are, we’ll tell them. If these men are to be your brothers, Jon, they’ll have to know, just as they know about me, and just as they know about the Lord Commander. You won’t hide here.”

 

For a moment, Jon’s heart stopped, and he stood there, trying not to panic when Ghost came over and started licking at his right hand, not stopping until Jon was breathing again. It went against his very instincts, and he was scared. 

 

He’d do it, but he was scared.

 

He nodded. “Okay.”

 

He finished stripping down, and started shifting again, this one went by in a blur, not because it was quicker, but because his head was spinning when he finished, and it took a few minutes to orient himself to his change. When he was ready to get up, Ghost was cured around his side, keeping him close while he could hear Jeor and Aemon speaking behind them, giving him room to make himself comfortable.

 

Jon slowly got up, pulling himself into a full body stretch so he could work his muscles out from the knots they were in. He was starting to feel better already, but he knew if he shifted again in the next few hours he would be bedridden for a while. Though, right now he felt full of energy, and gave a little wriggle to get himself out from under Ghost’s heavy head where the direwolf was laying on his back, and started moving around so he could check things out, getting to know the bookshelves by scent as well as sight. He smelled a particularly dusty shelf and sneezed, wracking his entire body. It sort of hurt with his still sore muscles, but he heard laughing behind him and he ignored his body in favor of following it. It was a nice voice with nice laughter and he wanted to be closer.

 

He looked over at Ghost again, just to make fully sure that it was okay to wander off without him, and was pleased to see his faithful wolf was staring at him with big eyes, fully keeping his young charge within his sight. Jon stepped with a little more confidence now that he knew he was safe with him nearby. He knew he was a lot older than Ghost was, but Ghost was bigger now, and Jon felt safer with him around.

 

He trotted over to the table where Jeor and Aemon were sitting, and put his little paws up on Jeor’s knee, loving the way the man laughed. He sounded warm inside, and Jon liked that. So did Aemon when Jon moved to him next, doing the same thing, this time warm hands were running over his fur, and Jon couldn’t help but melt into the touch.

 

He let the human talk wash over him like he didn’t know what it meant, feeling safe and warm here. He just wanted to stop thinking for a little bit. 

 

He was with family here. Now if only Uncle Benjen would come back so he could steal treats from him, things would be even better. Uncle Benjen always had treats for him.

 

***

 

It was a week after Jon got to the Wall that a Stark guardsman rode up to Castle Black. Jon hoped that they weren’t here to demand Jon go back to his father, because he really wasn’t interested at this point.

 

It was Dath, he was one of the guards Ned always put in charge of watching Jon and his siblings because he was so good with children. He got off his horse and pulled two ropes off the saddle of it, giving a low whistle to get whatever was attached to move again, and Jon could feel his heart thump in his chest as he watched from the alcove they kept weapons in.

 

“I’m looking for Jon Snow.”

 

Jon shakily put the training sword away and stepped out of the alcove, looking nervous. It was Lady and Nymeria with him, his sisters wolves. Ghost came out behind him, going straight to his litter mates to greet them. “Dath.”

 

Dath nodded at him. “Your lord father sent these straight to you. Not to Winterfell, but to you.”

 

Jon opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking nervous. He could feel the other brothers staring, and Jeor -and unfortunately, Alester- were coming out to figure out what was going on. “These are my sisters wolves. Are they okay?”

 

Dath sighed, begrudgingly nodding. “They’ve run into a bit of an accident with Prince Joffrey. It seems, Nymeria attacked him, but before I could hear the truth of it, Ned told me to take them and leave. Said that if the queen got her way, whether it was true or not, one of them would die. I don’t need to tell you, that your father never could stand the death of a direwolf.”

 

Jon let out a relieved gust of air, taking the leads from him and moving to untie them both from their necks. “Why didn’t he send them to Winterfell?”

 

“He was worried your lord mother wouldn’t be able to take care of them at the moment. They can be brought back to Winterfell when the ladies Sansa and Arya return.”

 

Jon nodded, crouching down so he could pull both the wolves in by their necks, hugging them in a show that made them almost seem human to him; like old friends. These were Ghost’s litter mates, and as strange as that sounded, that made them Jon’s litter mates too. Seeing one of them dead, to Ned, would probably be like seeing one of his own children dead. Ned Stark never could handle the death of a child.

 

He stood up again. “Thank you, Dath.”

 

It seems, that Castle Black now had four direwolves in it’s midst. 

 

***

 

White Walkers hadn’t been expected. That was new to Jon, but like any Northern citizen, he knew about them. He just thought they’d all been wiped out already. The burn on his hand from throwing the lantern had left him with a limp as a pup. It was the first time Jeor had shown him his bear side, and Jeor had been more than able to keep up with one so young as him with a damaged paw. It had been a mixed bag of good and bad.

 

Benjen hadn’t returned with the other riders, but they hadn’t found his body either. Jon was scared he’d never see him again.

 

When they took his father and sisters captive in King’s Landing, and his brother had called in his bannermen, Jon had been desperate for something to do. He’s almost left them all right then other than Ghost, Nymeria and Lady. He’d almost broke his vows to go fight with them.

 

When Ned had died, Jon knew about it before Jeor told him. He remembers waking up, shifting from wolf to human almost without thought, and curling in on himself, crying into Ghost’s fur as he saw it in his head, as if it had happened right in front of him.

 

He remembers sitting in the dining hall after Jeor had told him to come North with them, to help find his uncle and figure out what was coming for them. He remembers the tears that hadn’t stopped coming, and he remembers the man who had called him a coward for crying over a few lost family members all because a few little lords started a fight with each other.

 

“How does crying for your family make you a coward?”

 

The brother of the Night’s Watch was sneering at him. Others were listening, though no one stepped in to help. Sam was off helping Aemon in the library, and Jeor was in a meeting. Jon was supposed to be helping cook dinner, but the silent tears had come up and he’d needed to sit down. But others were listening. “You lost your father, just about everyone here has lost their father. Get over it.”

 

Jon blinked at the man a few times. He didn’t look kind, and Jon couldn’t put a name to the face. “I lost my father to a mad king. Isn’t that fitting, I guess? It must be some sort of universal irony taking out its anger on my family. My father died to a sixteen year old king who claims my father tried to take the throne from him, as if he ever fucking wanted the thing in the first place, my sisters are being held captive by them, my brother is riding to war, with the Lord Commander’s sister and niece, my other brother was pushed out of a window and cannot walk and an assassin was hired to finish him when whoever it was found out he survived, attacking my mother as well, and my uncle is missing. This isn’t the first time the Starks have been attacked in King’s Landing. The last time, my birth mother was kidnapped by my father, the Mad King killed my grandfather and uncle, and Robert Baratheon killed my birth father in battle. None of that happened when I was alive yet, but look at how much of the world that one war changed. If you think this war won’t affect you, you’re dumber than you look.”

 

The words were quiet, though he knew everyone had heard them. Everyone.

 

He didn’t jump when he was suddenly in front of Jon, if only because he felt too numb to really move. “You said your birth father. Ned Stark is your birth father.”

 

Jon shook his head, looking down at his hands. “I’m not… I wasn’t Ned Stark’s bastard son, I was Lyanna Stark’s. My father was Rhaegar Targaryen.” There was no use hiding it when Robert was dead.

 

“Your grandfather was the Mad King.”

 

Jon nodded, not wanting to look up to the sneer he knew was there. He was lucky that Lady, Nymeria and Ghost were close by. No one would dare attack him while they were close. The three of them would tear into anyone who tried, brother or not. “One of my grandfathers was the Mad King, the other one was a Stark, who he killed. Like I said before, when Starks die in numbers, something big is coming. I can feel it, and I can see it in my dreams. The Walkers are coming.”

 

“Then you better get ready, boy, because we’re planning on stopping them.”

 

Jon looked up when he heard that, seeing Jeor in the entrance to the dining hall. He nodded once, getting back up from the table.

 

He didn’t fully think that less than a thousand brothers of the Night’s Watch could defeat an army like he’s seen in his dreams, but he’ll find one who will.

 

***

 

Lady and Ghost went with him when they had left Crastor’s keep and Jon was sent to go with the Halfhand. Nymeria stayed behind with Sam. She wasn’t as big as Ghost was, but even the then she was strong enough to fend off anyone who would cause him troubles.

 

There were a few things that Jon had possibly been expecting in the North.

 

Wildlings. Crastor had been a terrible man, one of the worst Jon has seen in a long time. The way he was sacrificing his sons to the walkers, that had been terrifyingly vile. The way he married his daughters, that had been disgusting. The way he took one look at Jon and decided that if Jon had a ‘nice wet twat’ between his legs he would be okay, but if not he was an immediate threat to his wives, that he made Jon want to bash his stupid head in.

 

The Fist of the First Men had been haunting. He knew that he was standing in the same place as his ancestors had thousands of years before, and he knew somehow that they had stood in that same place, terrified. Jon thinks he knows what they had been terrified of.

 

Leaving with the Halfhand had been interesting. He thought that maybe he was finally going to get to do something.

 

Only to immediately capture a wildling that he knew he couldn’t kill. She had red hair, not exactly the same colour as Sansa’s hand been, but close enough to still his hand from cutting her throat. She was the same age as him, and for a moment, he thought about asking her if she knew any shifters in the wildling camps.

 

Then he wondered why they had a soldier that was maybe sixteen years old out on missions.

 

But then he revealed in the hypocrisy of it all, because isn’t that what he’s here for?

 

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t hurt her.

 

She assumed it was because she was a girl, and Jon almost wished she was right, because it seems like that would have been so much easier.

 

Getting captured by them had almost seemed nice in the end, taking the decision out of his hands. Lady and Ghost caught up to them and Jon had to almost  _ beg _ them not to hurt them on sight. It helped when Lady cozied up to Ygritte right away, making Jon want to roll his eyes at her for her terrible choice in friends.

 

“Well, if we get rid of you, we won’t have to get rid of this one.”

 

Jon turned around to glare at Ygritte, glad she wasn’t whacking him with Long Claw anymore, but still annoyed that she was cozying up to Lady. “Try killing me and she’ll rip your throat out. Direwolves get upset when you kill their litter mates.”

 

She frowned at him. “I’m not talking about the white one, we’ll keep him too.”

 

Jon rolled his eyes. “I’m talking about  _ me _ , you idiot. I am their litter mate.”

 

The halfhand gave him a look like he thought Jon should shut up right now, but Jon was actually feeling oddly possessive over Lady and Ghost right now. He felt jealous and angry in the pit of his stomach.

 

“What are they, shifters?” She was looking at them cautiously now as they walked.

 

“No, I am.”

 

Even the halfhand was looking at him funny now. Jon was tired. He was simply just tired. He was angry and he was jealous and he missed his parents and siblings and uncle, and he was tired, and he didn’t care anymore.

 

He wished he could go back to that day that Jeor had let Jon spend with him, both of them shifted in the snow, even if he’d been limping then, even if he’d been both scared and triumphant. He wished he could go back then, and he wished he could take his entire family with him.

 

When the halfhand was dead, Jon felt numb again. He blinked once at Ygritte when she untied him, and he followed her to where she said the camp -the  _ Free Folk _ camp- was.

 

And he stopped when they got there, he stopped, and he stared, and he started to finally feel again, because what he saw was jaw dropping, and heart stopping, and terrifying.

 

The camp was as far on as the eye could see, and at least half of it was shifters. Maybe more.

 

He didn’t think anything else could shock him, but he doesn’t have words for that.

**Author's Note:**

> Shifters:
> 
> Jon - Direwolf  
> House Mormont - Bears  
> Tyrion Lannister (see the theory of Tyrion being a Targaryen, I'm 100% convinced it's true and you won't convince me otherwise, even if George himself debunks it, I'm probably still gonna write it) - Lion (a dwarf breed tho)  
> Dany - Dragon  
> Dalla and Val -White doves


End file.
